


How Long Will It Take?

by IneffableSerpent



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Chubby Logic | Logan Sanders, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pirate Captain Deceit Sanders, Polyamory, Prince Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Time Traveler Logic | Logan Sanders, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21704182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableSerpent/pseuds/IneffableSerpent
Summary: Logan Crofter was a time traveler thatwantedto solve historical mysteries.Roman Sanders was a lonely prince thatwanteda life free of misery.Deceit Horace was a pirate captain thatwantedto rule all the seven seas.None of them knew what theyneededwas each other.Inspired by a prompt by @stars-and-rose from Tumblr: "logince time travelers au where logan is a time traveler who accidentally brings back literal prince roman into the future. and they have to deal with the shenanigans that follow while falling for each other." (but now it's with roloceit.)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 55
Kudos: 92





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> We journey through Logan's life prior to the main events of this fic.

The dry stench of dust wafted through the air, invading Logan Crofter’s nostrils. His nose scrunched as he trudged towards the shelves. Blue eyes behind glasses looked over the thick backs of old books, analyzing their titles, most of which he recognized from shelves of his own.

His chubby fingers gingerly probed through the collection, parceling away the familiar copies. Logan stopped at the touch of something different; something newer. He hadn’t seen this one before, nor its peculiar name.

‘The Unofficial and Unsuccessful Guide to Time Travel, written by Joan S.,’ it read.

Logan tugged it into his hands and flipped it onto its back. It continued, ‘I’d like to try my best.’

He pursed his lips. Then frowned. Then drew his mouth in a tight line as he shifted the peculiar book under his arm and fished out his wallet. Logan shuffled towards the cashier with a sigh.

“You told me there was a special place in Hell for unprofessional non-fiction writers,” said Gerson, the graying middle-aged man who stood behind the counter every morning. He also happened to be Logan’s only friend.

Logan handed over his money. “ Firstly, I was being hyperbolic. And secondly, I highly doubt that this is non-fiction. Time travel isn’t real, after all.” He adjusted his glasses.

“If you say so,” laughed Gerson. “How did the first day of high-school treat you?”

“Inconceivably and in need of new books.” Logan pocketed his change, “And I implore you to restock your shelves more often, Gerson. You are my only hope of survival.” And his feet took him out the door as the older man chortled.

That night, Logan sat on his desk and leaned over his new possession. He flipped through the pages. And spread across the thin papers were black and white photos of crooked contraptions adorned with various knobs and dials, with bits of wire poking out; lengthy paragraphs that spoke of the creative process accompanied each image.

The way the author, Joan, worded their sentences and conclusions lead Logan to believe that the book was not at all fictional. 

He ought to scoff.

Despite that, his curious eyes stayed glued onto the content while the figurative gears in his brain grinded with intrigue. The bespectacled boy skimmed to the final page, and met a list of causes to all the explosions that had occurred.

Logan paused. And he reached for his matching blue pen and pocket notebook.

\-- 

It was an understatement to call majoring in physics difficult.

Logan groaned and thumped his forehead against his textbook, and threw his pen against the wall. An important exam was due the next day and he was nowhere near prepared.

“You should take a break, L," said a voice from the doorway.

Logan turned and saw his roommate, Virgil Glumm, who had jet black bangs that draped over caramel eyes.

“But I-”

“Nope. Do something else. I wanna jam out to my songs and I really can’t handle the sound of your suffering bouncing around the walls.”

“Then I suppose. . I should continue yesterday night’s experiment?” Logan’s lip twitched upwards.

Virgil ran a hand down his face, smudging a bit of his eyeshadow. “Oh, Jesus Christ, not that either. It's literally the reason you procrastinate on studying! Just read a book, for fuck's sake. . .”

“I have decided,” Logan said as he retrieved a small metal box with wires strung around it, a static screen flickering on one side. Then he grabbed another metal box, this one had less wires and more buttons. And he took one more metal box, and this one looked like a broken radio. He hunched over as he lined them all together. “Now, which one of these was on the verge of imploding?”

Virgil had already left the room.

\-- 

Logan dropped his screwdriver and rubbed the sweat off the top of eyebrow, and he sighed. Professor Joan’s newest book; ‘Help, Time Travel Is Hard As Fuck’; sat wide open in front of him, along with a bulky watch with many loose knobs and wires. He tugged at a red wire, and the watch began to fizzle and jitter, before launching off his desk in a burst of smoke.

A cough tore out of Logan’s throat as he scribbled down the results into his pocket notebook. The watch was his most hopeful project after thirteen years of trial and error, and provided many solutions to Professor Joan’s dilemmas. He named it the ADOTT, short for Automated Device Of Time Travel.

Logan was reaching for the ADOTT when the opening theme to BBC’s Sherlock chimed from his phone. He fished it out his pocket and pressed it to his ear.

Logan answered the call, knowing who it is without having to look at the name. “Yes, Virgil?”

“Wow, that was quick-” Virgil mused. “Anyways, happy birthday. . You're twenty-eight now, how’s one year closer to dying?”

“Ever the more daunting as it decreases my chances of building a successful time-travelling machine. But. . Thank you. You were the only one who remembered this year.”

“Nah, dude. Patton wishes you a happy birthday too. He wants all of us to meet up at the usual café today, that okay? He- We have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Logan tried to stop the smile creeping onto his face.

“Just come on. He doesn’t want you to spend another birthday alone, and I don’t either.”  
Logan looked at the ADOTT, then to his book, and then he fiddles his tie, ". . I’ll see you in thirty minutes."


	2. 01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is stubborn and explores a kingdom from 1321.

Logan released the air he was holding as the ADOTT sat on his wrist, not a spark or burn in sight. Logan adjusted his glasses and fastened his indigo tie. His gaze stayed on the bulky yet immaculate watch, staring at the small blue screen that donned its top.

The screen projected four numbers; 2019; and had two black buttons under it, and a larger blue button off at its side. Logan held down the left black button, and the numbers changed to 2018, then to 2017, then to 2016. And it continued decreasing until 1321.

Logan controlled his breathing and nodded to himself, before moving on to the blue button. He counted down from three under his breath before tapping it once.

Something exploded.

Thick unbearable heat enveloped him.

Logan turned into sludge and sloshed down a tight tunnel of pure white.

The world spiraled, and twisted, and bent, and snapped around him.

Logan tried to scream as the puddle that is his existent warped back into a physical form. His feet planted into coarse dirt, and he stumbled and crumpled onto his back with a loud grunt.

The pain fizzed away and next came the sun’s familiar shower, basking Logan in its golden rays. Logan sat up and cocked his head around.

A mossy stone wall loomed over a bustling town. Statues of mighty knights circled the entrance, along with actual knights, who stared at Logan's appearance incredulously.  
Logan looked above them, ignoring the attention, and gasped.

Upon a wide hill at the center of everything, was a wide palace with three gigantic towers that pierced the sky. Its gates were wide open and connected to a bridge into the town. Rainbow mosaic windows decorated its white walls, and spacious balconies jutted out its front.

Logan pried his eyes away and spread his limbs across the soft grass. He forced his quick gasps to calm down by pressing his fingers against his lips and breathing out his nose. Logan bit the palm of his hand to stifle the shriek that scratched his throat.

Logan then scrambled onto his feet and attempted to shuffle into the town, but a guard grunted for him to halt.

"State your identity and your purpose," said the guard.

"I am- I am a traveler from a nearby town, here to do- To do research," said Logan.

"We have no nearby towns, traveler."

"Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. There is, in fact, a town just up. . Uh, north. But because you and I, as different individuals, perceive distance differently, what is nearby to me, may be the farthest thing from it to you.” Logan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “That said, let me in.”

"No."

\--

Logan snuck past the first guard and lied to the second, saying he had permission from the first to enter. He doubled down into a sprint once they looked away from him.  
He wouldn't call himself a deceitful man, but he also wouldn’t deny that he is stubborn.

Logan snatched an oversized tunic and slipped it on to hide his modern age clothing, and used the long sleeves to cover the ADOTT. He reminded himself not to grin like a mad scientist. Logan took out his pocket notebook and borrowed a quill from the local bard, and turned to the person next to him.

“Greetings. I am a visitor from an objectively nearby town, could I ask you several questions?” Logan said as he flipped through his book, scanning for an empty page.

His interviewee raised an eyebrow. “We have no nearby towns.”

“Ah- Yes, from your point of view, see that’s why I said ‘objectively’. . .” And Logan had no intention to stop talking because it didn’t even occur to him that everyone else wanted him to shut up.

\--

Logan snapped his notebook shut as he filled out the final page. He looked up and noticed the sun setting behind the palace. Logan hummed. He had been too focused on interviewing anybody who had enough patience to speak with him to pay attention to environmental changes.

According to the answers he received, Logan was in the famed kingdom of Creeativithee, which King Romulus and Prince Roman ruled. Logan thought back to his school days, when he learned about their deaths. . .

Something related to another prince, or perhaps a duke. . .

He also heard that Prince Roman was quite a charmer and loved exploring the vast lands outside of the kingdom, hence why Logan hasn’t encountered him yet. Logan made a mental reminder to get, or perhaps steal, a new book for his future interview with the prince.  
Logan didn’t know when he would return to 2019, but seeing as he had yet to experience any repercussions, he considered himself welcome to stay as long as he’d like.

Logan stopped walking dug his heel at the edge of the moat and peered down at his reflection. The palace stood out behind him. He sighed and relaxed his shoulders, pulling his arms behind him. And for the first time in years, Logan didn’t try to hide the smile that spread across his plump cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll, don't worry, we'll meet Roman soon enough. . .


	3. 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Roman appears!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear these chapters will get longer as the story progresses-

Roman bolted through the woods, each drop of his heavy boots echoed a loud crunch as it dug into the earth underfoot. The coiled rope slung around his non-sash shoulder bounced roughly against his high-collared neck. His lips quirked up into a toothy grin.

The Prince of Creeativithee stomped down as he neared the lip of a cliff, and he flapped his arms back to maintain his balance. Roman glanced to the land below and whistled. He rolled his broad shoulders before untying his rope and knotting it around the thickest tree. Then, he proceeded to tie it around his armpits and chest.

Roman gripped the rope’s body, about halfway from him and the tree, and backed towards the cliff. He inhaled a deep breath and grinned once more, before hopping backward. Roman grunted as he swung himself against the cliff’s wall, planting his feet vertically.

The prince lowered down step by step, arms shaking as he used all his strength to hold himself up. He stared down and saw the mouth of a cave, and breathed a low “come on!” before swinging himself in.

Roman skidded against the rocky cave floor, then yanked into a halt as the rope reached its limit.

“Nailed it!” He whooped as he released himself of his constraints. He padded dust away from his clothes before taking in the familiar surrounding.

Warm abstarct colors painted the jagged cave walls. One side had tall stacks of novels and manuscripts leaning against it. And the other side displayed several canvases layered with detailed paintings of landscapes. A dry yet colorful palette sat in the nearest corner, along with half-empty paint buckets.

Roman threw himself onto the bed of blankets that bundled up in the farthest wall. The orange rays of the setting sun dazzled over him from the perfect angle. He folded his hands behind his red hair, and let out a loud sigh of content.

He knew his father would be looking for him soon, but he couldn’t care less. The argument they had about how the king thought Roman’s “far too feminine behavior” wasn’t “fit for the next of throne” had left him in an awful need of a getaway.

Stars began to sparkle in the sky right as Roman drifted off into a deep slumber.

\--

The next dawn, Roman reversed the actions he had taken the night before and trudged back into his kingdom with a foul frown. The townspeople avoided his line of sight, recognizing the look and knowing what would disturbing him entail. 

Except for the chubby man who wore square glasses over quizzical blue eyes and had hair as dark as the oceanic depths. 

Their eyes met, and the man cocked his head sideways.

“You look odd,” said the stranger as he gazed at Roman’s rope, then at the red sash that he had slipped off and tied around his waist. Whispers erupted from the circle of people closest to them.

Roman crossed his arms. Who does this fool think he is? Speaking to the Prince of Creeativithee like that?

“Oh, really now? _I_ look odd?” Roman scoffed. “You know, I ought to ask where you’re from, because nobody from _my_ kingdom could ever look. . . " Roman gestured at the stranger's outfit, "Like _that_!”

That said, the stranger did look attractive. 

The stranger didn’t answer. He stared at Roman. One of the townspeople yelled, “he’s from the 'objectively' near town up north!”

“ _Your_ kingdom?” Muttered the stranger.

“Yes, I’m the prince, after all!”

The bespectacled man clicked his tongue. “Ah.”

“Oh, you’re really not from here, are you?” Roman giggled as he combed his fiery hair with his fingers. 

“I- My apologies,” the stranger lowered his head, his soft hair falling over his beautiful blue eyes. “It hadn’t occurred to me that you were the prince. Shall you forgive me?”

Roman leaned back and flicked his wrist. “Right, right, it’s fine. You weren’t from here anyway, and I’d say that forgiveness is a specialty of mine.” The stranger straightened his back once more. “Say. . . What’s your name?”

“Uh- Logan. Logan Crofter,” he answered as he adjusted his top. 

“. . . Logan, ey?” Roman pursed his lips, then nodded his head as he pondered. “I’ll see you aro-”

“Wait!” Logan exclaimed, both of his hands reach for Roman. So near his face. He cleared his throat. “Since I am a traveler who is most obviously not familiar with his surroundings, it would be. . Uh. . Delightful if the Prince of Creeativithee could answer my questions about his kingdom?”

Oh! He thought Roman’s kingdom was delightful! How charming!

“Well, you are quite entertaining. . .” Roman snorted. “Sure, why not!”

Logan mumbled a “yes!” under his breath. He faced away and stepped into the crowd surrounding them, “Now, could someone hand me over an empty book? I need an empty book. You there-”

“Be prepared, your Highness,” chimed a subject. “That man is a _lunatic_.”

Roman raised an eyebrow.

\--


	4. 03

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Insert epic montage of Logan and Roman bonding*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told ya'll a longer chapter will be coming soon! Also I'm sorry for the delay, I hadn't been able to edit the chapter until tonight.

“How old are you?” Logan asked, his pen tapping against his new notebook. It was open on the third page. He stumbled on a pile of pebbles and tried to switch his gaze back and forth from his writing to his surroundings. 

Roman snickered at him. “I’ve been travelling this mortal realm for thirty handsome years.”

“I’d put it less dramatically, but that’s one thing we have in common,” Logan said.

“Oh, really? I’d never thought we’d share a similarity!” 

Logan jotted down Roman’s age. “What’s puberty like in the Medieval era?”

“Err. . . What?” Roman quirked his lips upward.

“Puberty, or do you use a different term?”

“No, no. I heard that part loud and clear. But why do you need to know this?” Roman averted his gaze. “Surely, you’ve been through the same things. Have you not?”

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together before he gasped. “Ah. Indeed. My apologies, I was- I didn’t know what I was thinking. Perhaps a fluctuation in my memory.”

It wasn’t a total lie, his memory did fluctuate. He forgot that Roman was a real person and not some hyper-realistic simulation.

Roman shook his head the slightest bit, his wavy red hair bouncing over his forehead. 

Logan stared.

“How have I never met you before?” Roman asked. 

“What do you mean?”

“You should be well-known all ‘round the universe with a personality as unique as yours! I’d have heard rumors of this strange, curious madman in my travels. And of course, I, as a bold adventurer, would have sought you out; awaiting for our first meet-up! You and I would be in a dark alleyway at the break of dawn,” Roman framed Logan's face with his thumb and fingers. “You with your peculiar pen and penetrating blue eyes, and I with my dashing looks and mighty sword!”

Logan stifled the chuckle threatening to tumble out. He wrote down ‘Narcissistic’ into his book before switching the topic. "Do elaborate on how I am a madman."

“Try asking yourself questions in a similar fashion to you asking me questions. . Perhaps you’d find out yourself.” Roman leaned over Logan’s shoulder and murmured, “And perhaps. . you’d find narcissism one of your attributes as well.”

Logan clapped his notebook shut and careened backwards. “I would not!”

“Oh? Let me see your notes, then,” Roman grinned. "You know I saw what you wrote down about me, Logan!"

“I deny your access to my- My important results!”

“But, am I not a prince of higher class? Could I not order you to hand over your belongings to me?”

Logan glared at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“And how would _you_ know that? See, you’re so sure of yourself, Logan. Would that or would that not be. . .” Roman moved in close enough for Logan to go cross-eyed. “. . A symptom of narcissism?”

“I _would_ know. I'd know because you're 'soft', as they say, aren't you?” Logan cocked his head the slightest bit upward, pointing his chin at the prince.

Roman gasped and placed a hand over his chest, when he collided with a familiar stone wall. Logan heard some of the guards on duty muffle a laugh, and he himself smirked in victory.

“None of you saw that!” Roman grunted as he steadied himself, rubbing his noggin. “And don’t take that as a win, you bespectacled bloke.”

Logan stopped himself short of a retort when a guard ran up to them.  
“Your Highness! Are you here the check the perimeters?” Said the guard. Roman nodded. “With this. . . Other person?”

“Logan Crofter here is an acquaintance of mine, and he shall accompany me on my duties.”

The guard nodded before letting them through.

One of the other guards, the one that had denied Logan’s entrance, said, “Avoiding His Majesty again, are we?”

Roman growled and snapped, “You’re on thin ice, Nosreg." He puffed his chest and narrowed his eyes at the guard before taking Logan's wrist to drag him away. They shuffled along the outside of the kingdom's of walls in silence. 

Logan hummed and furrowed his brows, reconsidering the previous interaction.

"What's gotten you to shut up for once?" Roman mumbled. His shoulders sagged. 

“You only do duties when you’re avoiding your father,” stated Logan with no forethought. He looked up at Roman, and waited for his reaction. For the prince's nose to scrunch up as he folds his arms over his chest. And he did, to Logan's amusement.

Roman then choked. “What! Where’d you get _that_ from?”

Logan cleared his throat. “One of the townspeople I interviewed mentioned that you were a bratty prince. Based on the human behavior research I did in the past, I know bratty people wouldn’t do chores unless they had a good reason to do so. Now, Nosreg had emphasized an ‘again’ in his quip, implying that you have avoided your father at least once before this particular instance.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “And obviously, Nosreg knew you were doing it again from the fact that you were doing your duties, in what I assume is the first time in quite a while.”

Roman gawked at him with his mouth agape.

"I also know that you are sensitive about this, based on your body language and your response to Nosreg." Roman did nothing but stare at him, and Logan pursed his lips. "Am I correct?"

“Who. . . Who are you, really?” Roman stammered.

“I’ve told you; I am Logan Crofter.” Logan adjusted his spectacles. “But I have trained myself to be beyond the average intelligence.”

“I would deem you as blasphemous but. . ." Roman's eyes figuratively sparkled. "I'm- I'm amazed. By you."

\--

Logan sat on top of a gargantuan stone, his notebook on his lap. Roman tossed the sword a Royal Huntsman had given him back and forth between his calloused hands. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before Roman looked away to the dense woods enveloping them.

“How did you learn how to use a sword?” Asked Logan.

“A tutor. She also taught me hand-to-hand combat and archery,” Roman smiled.

Logan’s pen moved in neat handwriting. “What might her name be?”

“Valerie.” 

Logan hummed and looked above them, seeing a black bird snoozing on a branch “How often do you hunt?”

“Oh! I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out already in your ‘oh, so’ intelligent brain.” Roman sent a playful glare at him as he ran a hand through his hair. Logan couldn’t help but to fixate his gaze at the action. He wrote down 'Soft hair'.

Something scuttled between the bushes behind them. The traveler and the prince turned around in delicate silence. A deer sprung out and began grazing, unaware of its audience.

Roman let out a battle cry and swung at it. The deer dodged his sword and hopped away as fast as it could. Roman pouted and puffed air.

“I’m guessing not often, then.” Logan slid down from his perch to stand beside the frowning prince. “A skilled huntsman would know to be quiet when hunting.”

Roman handed the grip of his sword to Logan. “Fine, then! Why don’t you have a try if you know a ‘skilled huntsman’ behaves?’”

Logan held it in both of his arms and swung around with caution as he tried to get used to it. The blade smacked against a tree branch, then followed by a loud squelching noise. The prince and the traveler gazed at each other with wide eyes. Logan lowered the sword, and on its tip was an unmoving bloody black bird.

Logan sighed with the slightest hint of a smile. 

Roman screamed as he threw his arms up in the air. 

\--

“See, this is a _good_ red, but it’s not the _best_ red. Is it?” Roman untied the sash around his waist and handed it over to the tailor. “Make it darker. Not too dark, though! Nothing that reminds me of the Duke. Like, come on, _the best_ red. _Best_.” Roman nodded as if what he was saying made any sense whatsoever.

Logan sat on a nearby couch, one leg thrown over the other. He nestled into the brown pillows and wrote down ‘Very picky’ and 'Impossibly high standards’ into his notebook.  
“Logan, I can see you writing again, it better not be anything upsetting!” Roman called out.

Logan scribbled ‘Anything upsetting’ in parentheses before responding. “I am looking from a purely objective perspective, Prince.” He gave Roman a quick glance, knowing that the prince had been staring at him since he sat down.

Roman plopped down beside him as the tailor scuffled into another room with his sash. Their knees tapped against one another. 

Roman grinned. “You know you can call me ‘Your Highness’, right?” 

“I’d rather not,” answered Logan.

Roman made a noise of confusion, something between a whimper and a hum. “Why so? I mean, it’s sort of awkward just using ‘Prince’, you know? Your Highness feels way better, does it not?”

“I don’t feel anything,” Logan mumbled. “I don’t think so.”

Roman looked at his shoes. “Would a different nickname suffice?”

Logan pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “I’m astonished you’d care, but. . . Yes.”

The tailor from before entered the room once more with Roman’s sash. Logan examined it and noticed that it was exactly the same. 

Roman gasped. “Oh, my Lord! This! This is wonderful, how pristine! This is right as I wanted it.” He slung it over his shoulder and torso with a proud smile. “Come now, Logan! The castle awaits us.”

Logan stood up and shook his head, puffing air from his nose. He whispered to the tailor, “How many times have you done this?”

“Every single time he walks in.”

Logan added ‘Dense’ into his long list of observations before jogging to keep up with Roman's long strides.

\--

Logan’s mouth fell open as they neared the castle. The open gates loomed above him as he shuffled through. Roman greeted the castle guards, who greeted back whilst they gave Logan bewildered looks. Logan stopped on his tracks as he took one step on the fluffy red carpet.

He felt the hint of a tear on the corners of his eyes as he marveled at the castle's interior.  
The colorful windows he had only caught a glimpse of were in full-view, the light shining behind it gave the entire room a rainbow hue. Intricate chandeliers hung from the high ceilings and emitted complimenting gold spotlights. Logan rushed to register every little detail into his notes.

He heard a boisterous laugh and Roman’s face slid into the view, right in front of him. The prince, who was taller than him a good amount, had bent down to his height; Logan was sure their noses were a fraction away from touching.

“First time seeing the inside of a castle?” Asked Roman with a grin.

“No, actually, just the first time I’ve seen it live and. . Not in shambles,” muttered Logan as he trudged past his acquaintance. He recalled the memory of Virgil and Patton taking him to a vacation in Ireland, where they visited the Rock of Cashel.

Roman pursed his lips and drew his eyebrows together as he leaned back. Logan sucked in a breath upon realizing another mistake.

“I’m- I’m talking about a dream I once had. About a castle. That was in shambles,” said he. "Not a literal castle, of course." 

“Ah. . Alright,” Roman clicked his tongue but didn’t drop the look he sent Logan.  
They continued their trip through the royal monument in silence.

\--

Roman kept his eyes fixated on Logan as they padded down the vacant hallways. Light freckles adorned the shorter man’s soft skin, his oversized spectacles slipping down the bridge of his nose. His dark eyebrows drawn together as he attempted to write in a neat handwriting while walking.

Logan looked soft and plump, with thicker things and adorable cheeks. A contrast against Roman's sharp angles and muscular body. 

Roman sighed and walked closer to Logan. The maroon door to his room popped into view and he skidded to a halt, almost missing it in his gander at his. . . Acquaintance? Friend?

He’d only know Logan for a day and yet. . . Roman grimaced and turned away. He forced himself to calm down as his bedroom door came into view.

“And we have arrived!” Roman sang as he kicked the door open. He had not close it properly when he stormed out in anger the day before. “After you?”

“But you’re the prince. I am merely a peasant to you, am I not?” Logan lifted an eyebrow. "Would it not be more appropriate for you to enter first?"

"Yes, but I'm different.” Roman's face warmed up. “I've never met anyone like you before, you see. . And. . I thought that, perhaps, we could be equals?"

Roman caught the smile Logan tried to hide as he stepped in.

Logan looked at Roman over his shoulder before propping himself on a cushioned stool. He placed his notebook and pen on Roman’s vanity desk and made a quick once-over at himself through the mirror to fix some of his displaced hair.

Roman positioned himself opposite to Logan, on the edge of his bed. His head rested against one of the tall bedposts.

“Any more questions?” He asked.

Logan turned. “Why did you bring me here?”

“To be frank, this would usually be the time for me to lock myself away alone in my room. . But I enjoyed your company,” Roman rubbed the back of his neck. "I should have told you sooner, but would you like to stay over for the night? You don't look like you have much and I doubt you could afford a stay at the inn."

Logan sucked in a breath. “O-oh. Really?"

“Indeed." Roman softened his voice. “It’s nice. Not being so. . Isolated. For once.”  
Logan relaxed his shoulders. “I’d never have expected the Prince of Creeativithee to be so lonely.”

“So did I.”

Their eyes connected again, and there was a silent understanding between them. Roman tilted his head. 

“Were you lonely as well, Logan?"

“I’d rather not say.” But the way he dropped his head, pulled his limbs close, and tried to hide his face said so much more than words ever could.

Roman nodded and dropped the subject. He peeked out the entrance to his balcony, and saw the night sky dotted with stars behind his thin curtains. Logan noticed and did the same, and his lips parted. 

“Can- Can I see?” Logan said, breathless. 

Roman wondered why. The sky always looked like that. But he mumbled a “yes” nonetheless. 

Logan lurched forward and pushed aside the curtains and slid onto the railings of the balcony. He curled his fingers around the edge in a death grip and faced up with the brightest smile Roman had ever seen. Roman followed after him.

“Tell me, why is this so new to you?” Roman asked.

“I’ve never- Never mind. Just a fascination is all.” Logan’s blue eyes glittered with the stars.

Roman pressed his back to the dark red railing and propped his elbows up. The tip of his fingers brushed against Logan’s arm. 

The prince cleared his throat, trying to imitate how Logan looked when he was about to say an observation. “. . I know about your past.”

Logan snapped his attention to him, “. . Excuse me?”

“You’re from a hidden northern town that does awful things to people. The folk locked you away in a room because of your differences, such as a high intelligence. . That could actually be magic! O-or psychic! And- And- And also because you never had puberty?” Roman dug around in his head to remember any of Logan’s weird attributes. “And your hidden northern town had a castle? That got attacked? And went into ruin. . .?”

Roman trailed off as Logan gave him an exasperated look. 

He grinned sheepishly. “I’m wrong, am I?”

Logan blew air from his nose. “How had you thought of all that?”

“I mean, there has to be a reason why you’ve seen a castle in shambles! And why you go around interviewing everybody like it’s your first time. . Existing! And you know, the stars and the sky; everyone has seen the stars and the sky!” Roman moved closer to Logan, placing both of his arms on either side of the bespectacled man. Caging him in, keeping him focused on Roman. “So, why haven’t _you?_ ”

Logan blinked and drew his lips in a line. “Would you believe me if I told you I was from the future?”

Roman groaned. “I’m serious,” he said as he leaned back, letting Logan go.

Logan slid down and crossed his legs on the floor. “So am I.”

Roman crouched beside him. “If I were to be an arse, I’d force you to answer me using my royal status. But you know. We're equals now, and all that.”

“It was your choice to make us equals and we have only known each other for day. . . Why?”

Roman tensed. He thought of how his father mistreated the people surrounding him. “I have my reasons.”

They fell back into silence. A star shot through the sky and Roman closed his eyes. He chanted his wish in his head. His wish for a better life. 

Roman opened his eyes and shifted towards Logan, about to ask him if he had a wish he’d like to fulfill. But the other man was fast asleep against the railing, head lolling to one shoulder. Roman forced down a laugh. He figured that Logan became exhausted from running around with Roman all day, writing down the entire experience. 

Roman did a quick trip to his room to grab a couple of pillows. He fluffed them on the floor and gently nudged Logan to lay down with his head on one of them. Roman settled next to him and eased his breathing. His eyelids drooped once more, and the starry sky darkened to an inky black.

He could feel Logan beside him and he pushed the looming thought of his father's disapproval to the back of his mind before falling asleep.


	5. 04

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman has many things to show Logan and many blushes he tries to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: (Implied) homophobia.

Roman groaned as he arched his back off the floor, arms raised above his head. The yellow gleam of the sunlight stung his eyes as he rubbed them and yawned. The flat surface of the floor hadn't affected his spine that much, since he sleeping on rough surfaces was a specialty of his.

Roman turned on his side, and sucked in a breath at the sight of the other man next to him. Raven dark hair softened over closed eyelids bare of spectacles, subtle freckles enlightened by the morning sky. Logan's warm breaths fanned his neck, and Roman shuddered before sitting up. He grimaced as he tried to will the heat down from his cheeks. 

After several moments of pouting at himself; or perhaps at Logan; Roman placed his hand on the shorter man's chest and nudged him. "Logan?" Said he.

That raised a low grumble from his equal, and a shove to the arm. Roman smiled as he repeated his action, calling out once more. Louder. 

Logan's eyes wrenched open, revealing shining blue irises that glared into Roman's beating heart. Logan frowned, shaking as he propped himself onto his elbows and placed his thick glasses onto the bride of his nose. Roman tried not to giggle. 

"Good morning. ." Roman murmured.

Logan said nothing as he stared up at Roman with a parted mouth, then he shook his head. "Yes. Um. Morning," he yawned.

Roman pulled his hand away from Logan's chest. "We were under the stares the entire night."

"Indeed. ." Logan sat up straight. He winced, reaching around to rub his spine, "Ah. . My back."

"Oh, I suppose you didn't like sleeping on the floor, did you? Would you have preferred if I had lifted you onto the bed?" Roman rubbed his eyes, "I mean, I would have done that but you seemed to really enjoy the sight of the stars, so I thought you'd be fine. . ."

Logan looked away. "Oh. That's okay, I guess."

". . .Alright," Roman hopped onto his legs and stretched. "We have a full day ahead of us, Logan! I have many things to show you in the castle."

Logan stood after him, grasping onto his bicep for balance. "Show me?" 

They walked side by side as they entered Roman's room, Logan took his notebook and pen back into his hands. 

"Of course! I've no duties for today, so I've decided. And a tour would be delightful!" Roman opened his wardrobe. "Wouldn't it?"

"It would be, I-" A muffled gasp, "Are you- Are you about to change your clothes-"

"Right, yes. Do turn around for me." And Logan did.

"Would you like to change into something as well? I've got a few things that should fit you, although I do think they'd still be slightly oversized. . ."

"N-no!" Logan coughed. "No, this is fine. I am fine."

By the time they had exited the room, Roman had donned a white dress shirt and slacks, along with his trademark sash. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows at they padded down the hallway. Like the day before, Logan ogled at their surroundings as he wrote on his notebook furiously.

They went down halls of twists and turns before Roman announced their arrival under a fancy archway leading into a vast room of art. Gargantuan canvases hung on the walls, detailed sculptures rested on podiums, colorful vases placed on tables. Roman heard Logan gasp as they approach a painting of Roman battling an enraged 'manticore-chimera', as Roman had named it. 

"Why are you fighting alone? With a broken leg nonetheless?" Asked Logan.

"Because it is an epic battle!" Roman crossed his arms over his puffed chest. "Of course, you wouldn't understand anything about that, now, would you!"

Logan rolled his eyes. "Well. I do understand that Talyn Kat made this, did they not?"

"Oh!" Roman dropped his arms. "Finally, something you can recognize! Yes, it is indeed. . . Wait, how do you know that?"

Logan sputtered. "I was guessing. They are quite well-known, aren't they. ."

Roman narrowed his eyes at Logan, the same expression he gave Logan when the bespectacled man stated he had seen a castle in shambles. Talyn most definitely wasn't a well-known artist as they didn't flaunt their talent to the public like some others do. Roman had met them when he was in frantic need of an art tutor, and they quietly offered their assistance. . . So, The odds of someone like Logan, who hadn't even recognized Roman upon their first meeting, knowing someone such as Talyn were fairly slim. . .

Roman tucked the thought into his brain. Save it for another day, perhaps. He wouldn't want to ruin the moment by pestering Logan too much. "Oh. .Well." 

He directed Logan to other majestic pieces, such as the life-sized sculpture of the King, and the large rainbow vase of beautiful roses. Then finally, a statue of Roman from his head to his chest, a hole in the center right for his heart. Logan neared it and tilted his head. Roman raised a curious eyebrow as he glanced at the floor around the statue, which was particularly scratchy and roughed with cracks. 

"Something caught your attention?" Roman stared back up at Logan.

Logan pressed his fingers against the art piece, it made a subtle shake. "It's moveable, is it not?"

Roman heaved out a breath. "Good heavens! How in the world did you know that?"

"It looked crooked. And I caught you looking at the floor." Logan smirked. "What does it hide?"

Roman rolled his eyes as he pushed the statue off to the side, revealing an iron trapdoor barely wide enough for a person to fit in. "Find out for yourself, Specs."

Logan bent down to open it. "Specs?"

"If you get to call me Princey then I get to call you Specs. Fair is fair."

The trapdoor flopped open with a clang, its hingers loose due to the frequent use. Logan climbed in first, and Roman followed. They landed in a small passage, pressing chest to chest. Roman grunted as he shifted himself towards Logan's behind to give them space. He chastised himself for blushing again, especially when he was that close to Logan.

"And what is this for?"

"Since you already know that I avoid my father," Roman averted his gaze towards one of the small torches that lined the upper side of the walls. "It's one of my first hiding spots. I found it when I was little, back then a statue of. . My mother was hiding it. Then when my father wanted it removed, I requested a new statue, of me. I swapped both statues myself, so the servants wouldn't know."

Roman felt Logan's lingering stare and sighed. "Ah," said Logan. "This passage is quite narrow. For you, especially."

"It wasn't always. . But I suppose we'd all grow out of these things, won't we?" Roman nudged Logan to continue down the passage. "Worry not, I also have plenty other hiding spots!" Logan nodded.

After shuffling down the space in silence, they made it the back of a bookshelf, and Roman had to shimmy himself to Logan's front to push it open. They stumbled into the library before Roman righted the shelf once more. Roman yelped as he caught Logan falling sideways. They grasped onto each other with wide eyes before pulling away.

"Books- Your books-" Logan stammered as he steadied himself and picked up his fallen pen. "So many books-" He spun around.

Roman laughed. "Yes, they are, indeed, books."

"H-how much time do you spend here?" Logan murmured.

"As much as I can. Especially when father isn't around."

"How many books have you read?"

"All of them. And the ones about poetry I've reread about a dozen times."

"Ever written poetry as well?" Logan glanced back at Roman.

"Plenty. Very talented, me."

"Hm," Logan pursed his soft lips. "You know, if I you really would like to avoid your father. . Running off to become a rich poet would be quite the option, would it not?"

Roman furrowed his eyebrows. "You must be jesting."

"No. I'm serious. Your father, the King, what has he done to you to figuratively push you away from him?" Roman pressed himself against a bookcase as Logan leaned into his personal space, arms trapping him in.

"You imply blame on the King? It'd ought to be treason. . ." Roman whispered. He trembled. Logan backed away. Their eyes didn't meet.

"Right. My apologies." Logan fixed his tunic. "Anyways, you have a magnificent library. Anything else you'd like to show me?"

Roman relieved himself of the breath he was holding. "Ah! Yes. The throne room; it should be empty, Father wouldn't be present in it at such an early hour."

They weren't side by side anymore as they trudged out of the library, and Logan continued looking down at his dirty dress shoes. Roman dropped his shoulders and pouted. 

The door to the throne room was large and looming, made of dark wood and adorned with gold patterns of roses. Roman prayed his father really wouldn't be there, like he had said, before pulling both doors wide open. He felt Logan peeking over his tall shoulder and shifted away to give him a better view. 

And thank the Heavens it was empty. 

"Yours to roam, Specs." The nickname made Logan look Roman in the eye again. Roman fought not to show the biggest smile he could ever muster. Logan did his usual thing of documentation as Roman stayed close behind, not wanting to stray too far from his new. . . Best. . . Friend. . . 

. . .Why not.

Roman placed a hand on Logan's shoulder, ready to comment on a spelling mistake Logan had made, when the doors burst open. A thundering voice roared for Roman's name. The prince froze, and so did the traveler. Except this time, it wasn't a deer rustling in the woods that had caught them, but instead an old broad-shouldered man. A jeweled crown rested on his graying wavy hair. 

"F-father-" Roman grimaced. 

"You've brought back another man, haven't you? Right after running off into the woods like a buffoon," the King strode to Roman's front, glaring down at him from his taller height. Roman maneuvered Logan behind him with the hand he had on the bespectacled man's shoulder. "A peasant nonetheless!"

"Logan isn't a-"

"Silence!" The King hollered. "Do you treat this 'Logan' like how I would treat a woman? Are you attempting to disgust me once more?"

"N-no-" Roman balled his fists.

"Should I cast you out like I did your brother? Thus leaving the throne for I, and only I, and not for some filthy 'soon-to-be-heir' like you?"

"No, father, p-please-"

King Romulus jabbed a finger at Logan's direction, Roman stepped to further shield his friend. "This is your last chance, Roman. If I see this man, or any man, becoming your company one more time. ." He lowered his voice into a snarl. "I shall exile you."

Roman shook. "Father-"

"Now throw him out before I have the guards do it. Or worse, I do it myself." The King shoved the two away before settling onto his throne with a deadly cold glint in his green eyes. 

Roman couldn't find his voice as he wrapped his fingers around Logan's wrist and dragged him into a sprint. Tears threatened to slide over his cheeks. He paid the guards no attention as he continued out the palace, out the walls, into the woods. Roman collapsed onto his knees, bringing Logan down with him. Only then did he notice Logan had been speaking to him. 

"Are you going to listen to your father?" Logan asked, but he sounded dull. More monotone than anything.

"Would it be too soon I've taken up your offer on being a runaway poet prince?" Roman said through pants. He wiped his tears dry with his long sleeves.

Logan stared. "Perhaps."

Roman grunted. "You suggested it!"

"I didn't think you'd do it today-"

"Well, then, perhaps you didn't think at all!"

"What-"

"Come on," Roman lifted the both of them to their feet. "I've got a place to stay at."

Logan sighed as they began traversing deeper into forestation. "Another hiding spot, I presume?"

"Not just," said Roman. "My truest home, in fact."

Logan didn't reply.

\--

Roman slung an arm over Logan's shoulders as they looked over the edge of the cliff. He felt Logan's breathing quicken and tilted his head to get a better view of the shorter man's face. Logan's mouth pulled into a tight line and his gaze was cold. Roman snickered.

"You hide fear quite well," he said as he took the rope he left around a familiar tree. 

"I'm not scared," scoffed Logan. "And even if I was, you telling me that I hide it well is evidence that I didn't at all."

"Sure," Roman began tying the rope around his body. "How good you are at watching and learning?"

"Very," Logan bit his lip. "What. . What are you doing. ."

Roman took Logan's notebook and slipped it between the rope and his chest, then pocketed Logan's pen.

"Oh, you know," Roman winked at Logan before leaping off the cliff. "Watch and learn!" He shouted as he traveled downward using pure muscle memory and instinct. Roman made sure to hold eye contact with Logan before he swung into his cave. He shouted, "Here, I'll untie the rope around me and you pull it back up. You remember how to fasten it around your chest and shoulders, don't you?"

The rope slinked away from view, and Roman waited for a response.

"I- Uh- I think so."

"And you're not scared?"

"It's illogical to be scared," and Roman heard a rough thump above him. He tensed.

"Are you okay!" Gasped Roman.

The sounds of rocks falling. "Y-yes."

And then finally, Logan swung into the cave with a grunt, scraping against the floor. Roman helped Logan free himself of the makeshift harness and pulled him into a hug. Logan's chest heaved his.

"You know it's okay to be scared. . ."

Logan didn't answer, yet tightened his grip. The traveler was the first to pull away. Roman saw his eyes widen when the view of Roman's paintings, his books, and the cave walls were no longer obstructed by the prince's figure. 

He bit down his tongue in a grin as he gave back Logan's belongings, "In need of writing everything down again?"

And Logan grinned back at him with the corners of his eyes, crinkling up in the most joyful way possible. Warmth spread once more across Roman's cheek, but he felt like he earned it. Finally freed from his wretched father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna go on a trip soon so the next update might come a bit later?? I'll try to write as much as I can, though!


End file.
